One thing that the occupant of the queen-size bed could always count on was that, after a long day of ghost-fighting, classes and general insanity, a good night's sleep would straighten any wrinkles that creased the person's psyche. The figure turned a little in bed, letting out a slight moan.

The light of the moon was visible as it shone brightly in the room, illuminating the bed with an ethereal quality. A shadow cast itself over the sleeping figure. Its head seemed to be flaming and the same went for its tail.

The unknown being flew into the room and hovered over the plush carpet. Its dark coloring (outlined with a purple trim) seemed to be a natural fit for the dark mood of the room. Its eyes - its dark, foreboding eyes - sized up the person sleeping in bed. A few quick words would break them enough to be broken literally, instilling more misery in the ghost fake.

She crouched into an attack position, which sent a slight gust of wind toward the person in bed. With quick reflexes, the person pulled a cylindrical object, which resembled a Thermos, from under the pillow and pointed its uncapped opening at the visitor.

"Did you happen to lose something…like this fight?" The venom in the girl's voice could not be denied. The spirit scowled as it shot out of the room.

The dark-haired girl took a breath as she put the cap back on the Thermos. She stuffed it under her pillow and fell back to sleep.

XxXxXxXxX

One thing that the spirit currently traveling over Amity Park was glad about in her current position as resident psychologist was how easily student files could be accessed. She could always tell the gatekeepers of the permanent records that she needed to look into a student's background; to check for any…'incidents' in said student's past, or, perhaps, obtain a student's home address.

It was almost too easy. The school was the barrel and she had the gun. 'They may as well change the name of the school to Catfish High', she mused as she came upon a modest-looking house.

XxXxXxXxX

One thing that the occupant of the bed in the movie-poster and technologically-laced room could rely on was constants. The teacher will always count on the person (or persons) not paying attention. His best female friend will rail against his propensity for consuming meat by-products. Trouble will find his best male friend in the most unfortunate situations. Most of all, a comfortable bed is its own panic room; nothing can harm him while he lies in it.

On a night table sits a lamp. Next to it is a pair of glasses, while a red beret hangs off the side of the lampshade.

A dark shadow rose up through the bed and cast itself over the boy's sleeping form. Quick words, broken spiritually, then literally; a sound game plan if ever there was one.

"That tickles", the person in bed said, matter-of-fact.

The spirit looked down at the boy and gave off a confused look.

He reached inside his pillow case and drew out a Thermos. He had been grateful that the Fentons had made more than one of them.

"What's cookin', bad lookin'?"

The entity growled and stormed (which is to say 'she flew angrily') out of the room. With a smile, the boy fell into a deep sleep.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny had sit in the stands of his school before, usually to watch the Ravens get their butts handed to them by opposing teams. More often than not, the cheerleading squad is what drew the young man's attention. Given that the squad was in the middle of the field, it must've been half time. Even from the top of the stands, he had a pretty good view of their…physicality. It's not like he had a choice; the good seats were taken long before he even cared to attend.

The girls flipped and kicked and did what cheerleaders did, to the excitement and approval of their hormonally-loaded classmates.

The boy rubbed his eyes, because the group of six seemed to suddenly disappear, leaving one girl in a red and white outfit. Also, he was sure he'd been sitting at the top of the stands, instead of the first row where he now sat. And weren't there other people sitting around him?

Strangely (perhaps, not so strangely; where else is she going to look?), the lone cheerleader stared directly at him. Her dark hair seemed to glisten under the stadium lights. She turned her body around, which left her head facing him, as best as it could. She winked at him as she looked away.

Danny stared at the girl; he was sure he'd seen her somewhere before. He squinted his eyes at her. In an instant, it came to him. "Sam?!"

Upon hearing her name, the dark-haired girl walked toward the boy and smiled at him. She waved a pom-pom in his face and started to gyrate in a most uncheerleader-like fashion. Sam reached her hand out to caress Danny's face. He smiled at her soft touch. She grabbed his face and forced his lips onto hers. She moaned ecstatically as she broke the kiss, her hands shoving the boy backwards.

Sam stepped back and turned around. Her gyrations resumed and she smirked at the boy. He couldn't help but be transfixed. In an instant, her legs seemed to gain dimension, as well as six inches in height. Danny shook his head; surely, it was a trick of the mind.

She wiggled her behind at him, and it seemed to expand somewhat. It became apparent to him that this is not the girl he's known for so long.

The girl turned back to face Danny, and he had to admit that the fullness of her legs, though off-putting, was quite attractive. His eyes shifted slightly to her bosom, which also expanded. Now, he was no expert on this sort of thing, but it looked like her chest had increased by a cup size. Even more, the front of the red sweater opened, as if some invisible hand was undoing a zipper that wasn't there. This allowed a full view of some spectacular cleavage.

Danny shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Was he really seeing what he thought he was seeing? He never really paid attention to Sam's look, but if there was one thing he knew about her, it's that she always wore purple lipstick. So why were her lips ruby red?

The rubber band holding her ponytail up suddenly snapped out of place. Her hair, which carried a dark sheen, lightened to a reddish color. The shape of it changed from its traditional hold to a style resembling that of the stereotypical horned devil.

The girl closed her purple eyes, then opened them to reveal vibrant green ones. Danny recoiled at the creature that stood before him: Sam had turned into Dr. Spectra!

With a toothy grin, she stared the boy down. "I knew you liked looking at me." She winked at him.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny rose from his covers in a cold sweat. He panted heavily as he surveyed his surroundings: room, bed, barred windows. Yes, everything was as it shouldn't be.

He pinched his fingers against his eyes. When this whole mess started, he made himself two promises: don't let Spectra get to him and avenge Jazz's murder. If that dream was any indication, the first promise was as good as broken. However, Danny wasn't about to let her know that.

XxXxXxXxX

Sam opened her locker and pulled out a textbook. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"Pretty well, actually, except for this visitor I had last night." Even with the surprise he received, Tucker was able to remain calm.

The girl's eyes widened. "Spectra visited you too?"

"Yeah. I don't know what she was trying to accomplish with that. Was she trying to scare us?"

"Emphasis on 'trying'." The girl slammed the door of her locker. "We need to be on our guard." She took off down the hall.

Tucker followed after her. "No problem, Sam. I can do that."

"By the way, my parents grounded me because of yesterday." A clearing of the throat provided the right mood. "They, I believe their words were, 'can't believe that you would associate with who is obviously a negative influence'."

The African-American boy put his hands on his hips. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" To him, there was some kind of implication behind her parents' words.

"Tucker, they didn't mean you. They meant Danny, or, as they call him, 'that delinquent'."

"Oh. Well, my folks grounded me, too. Pretty likely that we won't be seeing Danny for a while."

Sam smacked her palm against her head. "Doy. Just because we can't see Danny doesn't mean we can't help him."

"Awesome." Tucker smiled encouragingly.

She stared a bit. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

The late bell pierced through the hallway. "Explain it on the way."

XxXxXxXxX

"…and so it was in 1941 that the United States was coerced into joining the second World War. The attack on Pearl Harbor was quite devastating…"

As the teacher droned on, Sam sat in her desk. A sheet of paper was held by a clipboard. She drafted a series of lines with numbers in front of them. Above was the statement, "To the Governor, the following persons support the freedom of Danny Fenton. He has been treated unfairly by the justice system, and it is our duty to see that he is released."

She smiled at the finished document. "Perfect."

XxXxXxXxX

Danny, once again, sat in the examination room. He exhaled as a light blue trail escaped his lips. The witch was near.

The door flew opened. "Hey, there, Danny. How goes it?" As the door slammed shut, Spectra walked around the table. "Oh, that's right. They can't hear us." The boy rested his head on his folded arms.

"I've got to hand it to you: those pets of yours are pretty well-trained."

"Pets?"

"Dopey and Mopey. They've been resisting me for some time now. It must be your doing." By now, Danny knew exactly who she was talking about. "Speak, stay…" Spectra counted the points off on her fingers. "I can't wait 'til we get to 'play dead'."

"At least I'm loyal to my friends. And what about your pet…Belvedere?"

"Bertrand, and that is none of your business."

"I'm sure you think it's not."

The woman smiled. She wasn't about to lose this argument. "You really are a piece of work, you know that? Living the life you lead now…"

"…because you put me in here", he stated bitterly.

"Tomato, to-mah-to. Anyway, I was thinking that there may be a way out of this that could help you."

Danny perked up at this, but not so much as to get her attention.

Spectra leaned forward toward him. "All you'd have to do is confess that you're half-ghost."

"What?" His inquiry combined shock and amusement. "Are you sure that I'm not affecting your brain?"

"You messing with my head?" A loud laugh from the woman. "That is good." She wiped a tear from her eye. "Seriously, think about it: being a ghost has made you mentally unstable."

Danny opened his mouth to speak. "Not a freakin' word", Spectra threatened.

"It intrudes on your rational human half, amplifying your baser emotions. The court might show some sympathy…if they're not persuaded to go for an insanity plea, that is. Hey, I'm not saying this will make things simpler. Just easier."

"For who? You know something? I think I am affecting your brain, maybe not in the same way you're affecting mine. You said it yourself that I was a drug, and too much drugs will scramble your brain. If I admit I'm half-ghost, I might be tempted to name names, remember faces…and yours will be the first."

"Like the people here can do anything to me here!"

He shook his head. "Wasn't talking about here. The Ghost Zone is full of spirits like you, spirits who cherish their freedom and wreaking havoc in this world. When they learn it was you who convinced me to spill my guts, they'll spill yours all over the place."

Spectra slammed her fists on the table. "Get over yourself, Danny boy! You don't have it in you to ruin your life like that. You ruin your life, you're taking a lot of people with you. Would you really jeopardize the safety of your friends? Your school? What's left of your family?"

The boy grit his teeth and balled his fists. A nerve had been struck. "By the way, your parents study ghosts, right? Might make for an interesting experiment to see them get first-hand experience into the lives of ghosts."

Danny stood from his seat and glared. Spectra wagged her finger. "Ah-ah-ah. Don't forget to smile." The wagging finger pointed up to the camera. "I guess that's time."

She stood up and walked toward the door. "Think about what I said. It's not like you don't have the time."

The woman disappeared behind the door. Danny banged his fists on the table and started to cry.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny walked down the hall. Having almost missed lunch, he was anxious to get something into his stomach. As he turned a corner, he spotted a mountain of a teenager at the end of the hall. It was as if someone took Dash and exposed him to gamma radiation. This was Grant Fowler, or 'Spike', as he demanded to be called. Danny had heard things about him: starting fights with anyone who looked at him funny, getting into trouble just because. He was considered a lost cause by all who had encountered him. Danny turned back around in a hurry; trouble wasn't on his mind.

Unfortunately, Spike caught sight of something ducking behind a corner.

XxXxXxXxX

"Hello. I'm Sam Manson. As you might have heard, Danny Fenton was imprisoned for the murder of his sister. My friend Tucker and I consider this unfair and we wish to appeal to the governor. However, we are unable to do this without your support. If you wouldn't mind signing this petition…"

This was the fifth time Sam practiced this speech in front of the mirror in the girl's room that day. She felt that preparation was necessary given the number of times she'd be delivering it.

She walked out of the room and looked over the students milling about.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny fast-walked down the corridor. As far as he was concerned, lunch could wait. All that mattered was staying far away from…

"Spike!" …had jumped out from a corner.

"Hey. Where're you headed?" His tone was surprisingly jovial.

"Just to lunch. I'm pretty hungry."

"Wait. What's your name?"

"Danny…Fenton."

"Yeah! I heard about you." Danny tried to walk away, but Spike put his hands on either side, blocking his exit strategy. "You killed your sister, didn't you?"

"What?"

"I heard about her from some guys on the outside. She was a fine piece of tail. Why'd you have go and kill her?"

This was more than enough. Danny sent a fist crashing into the aggressor's jaw. The smaller boy shook his hand from the pain. Spike growled as he rushed Danny and tackled him. A grunt escaped Danny's lips as he hit the ground. He rained blows upon Spike's back, but the felon wouldn't let up.

Danny could feel himself being pulled away from Spike, even though he was still swinging. The guard held the boy's arms. "Fenton! Fenton!" Danny slowly stopped his assault.

Spike lied on the floor. Surprisingly, there was a smile on his face. "I knew you couldn't have killed anyone." He laughed somewhat. "You barely made a mark on me."

Danny leapt toward Spike, but the guard held his arms in place. The man grabbed Danny's arm and walked him down the hall.

XxXxXxXxX

The sun glowed a brilliant red, setting in the distance and setting the sky ablaze. Sam rang the doorbell. She felt a little strange doing this. She never came here without Danny, and what's more, the doorbell never needed to be used.

The door opened. The imposing figure of Jack Fenton stood before her. "Samantha. What brings you here?"

"Hi, Mr. Fenton." She holds up the clipboard. "I was circulating a petition to help free Danny."

"Of course, I'll sign." The man eagerly performed the task. He turned back into the house. "Maddie!"

The woman walked up to the door. "What is it?"

Sam held up the petition. Maddie looked it over as Jack walked back inside. She signs the paper.

"You know, Sam. Danny is lucky to have a friend like you."

"Thanks. By the way, is there a chance I can use your restroom? I've been walking around all day."

"Oh, go right ahead."

The girl ascended the stairs and looked down at Mrs. Fenton. She let out a huge sigh; Sam couldn't fathom what the woman was going through.

The mood was broken instantly by the ringing of a cell phone hanging from her skirt. She opened it and pressed the 'talk' button. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Tuck."

"So, how's it going with the petition?"

She continues up the stairs. "Well, between you, me and the Fentons…we've got four signatures."

"Great. Sorry I can't be there with you."

"That's okay. I'll call you later."

"It'll have to be later. I'm still grounded. I shouldn't have even made this call."

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

Sam re-attached the phone to her skirt and walked down the upstairs hall.

XxXxXxXxX

There was a slight creaking as the door was opened. Sam really did have to use the bathroom, but the lure of seeing the bedroom was too strong. She surveyed the room carefully. It's not that she was afraid of something leaping out at her. The girl had never been inside Jazz's room before now. To her surprise, it looked like the living quarters of any other studious teenager. It was no mystery why she was so wary of it.

Her gaze caught the corner of a book sticking out from under the pillows on the bed. Sam looked away, then hurried toward the book, practically snatching it out. It was smaller than any of the other books in the room. Sam's look of curiosity became one of surprise.

"Who knew that she kept a diary?"

The lock on the cover was the next thing to grab her attention. She sighed as she put the book down. For fear of desecrating the deceased, making a mess in the room over a key was the last thing on her mind.

She tossed the book down and looked in the drawers of the night table next to the bed. In the top drawer were CDs and a CD player. Jazz was in no hurry to obtain anything so pointless and expensive like an mp3 player.

Ignoring the top drawer, Sam opened the middle drawer. It was full to bursting with assorted items collected over the years: old name tags, an ID card from middle school, various buttons and pins. As she gazed at the knick-knacks, the dark-haired girl mused that Jazz truly was her parents' daughter.

She closed it and moved to the lower drawer. There, she found a framed picture. It was of a little girl, no more than seven years old. The girl's hair was a brilliant shade of red. The girl in the picture had a cute smile on her face as she hugged a dark-haired boy who looked all of five. A tear fell from Sam's eye as she looked at it intently.

Without thinking, she raised her head and bumped it against the top drawer. Sam rubbed the spot where she was bumped and looked at the bottom of the drawer. It was a key stuck with a piece of tape.

Sam grabbed the key, taking the tape with it. After sticking the piece on the night table, Sam grabbed the diary and unlocked it.

She flipped toward the middle of the book and read:

Ugh! This family drives me so crazy, sometimes! I come home from school and the lights are off. Next thing I know, I'm ambushed by this vacuum cleaner! I can't believe that Mom and Dad…well, mostly Dad, think I'm a ghost. This ghost nonsense is going too far. When are they going to understand that there are no such things as ghosts?

Sam raised her eyebrows at this. She flipped forward a few more pages:

I was in my civics class today. I just love the free exchange of ideas. The conversation switched to the afterlife. A lot of people don't seem to believe in it…and in a town with a (I'm loath to admit this) ghost problem, that's not too surprising. This one girl believes in reincarnation. No one wanted to listen, but I was genuinely curious. The opportunity to come back and live again is fascinating, if somewhat irrational.

The girl's eyes widened at this and continued to flip through:

There's something wrong with Danny. I can feel it. I want to help him, but he's pushing me away for some reason. I really hope that Dr. Spectra can help him.

Sam sighed as she passed a couple of pages. She stopped cold on one page:

I cannot believe what I saw today. Even after seeing it, I'm shocked. Somehow, I feel that writing it down will help convince me that it actually happened, even though it couldn't have. Outside the store, in an alley…I saw Danny transform into…some kind of thing. It had white hair and a black suit…like the kind that Mom and Dad wear. I saw him fly off. It all makes sense now: the tiredness, the bad grades, the skittishness at Mom and Dad's crackpot inventions…Danny's a ghost. No. I still don't believe it…but I did see it.

Sam was snapped from her trance by the turning of the doorknob. She stuffed the diary under the pillow, tossed the key in the top drawer, closed it and jumped from the bed.

The door opened. "Oh, hello, Mrs. Fenton." Sam offered a nervous wave. "There's a good explanation why I'm in Jazz's bedroom--"

The woman tentatively stepped inside. "Jazz always kept this room so clean", she said to no one in particular. "I hardly ever had to set foot in it." By now, she was crying. The dark-haired girl walked to her and accepted her embrace. "It's a nagging fear for a mother that her children won't need her anymore."

Sam rubbed the woman's back. "I'm sorry."

XxXxXxXxX

Danny laid on his bed, his hands behind his head. He glowered up at the ceiling. The moonlight shone on his face.

"Danny, why did you fight? You know you shouldn't be fighting."

"He was saying things about Jazz - nasty things."

"Even so, you need to control yourself." There was an unexpected somberness in Jack's voice. "Things are already hard enough without something like this happening."

"But--"

"No buts, Daniel!" Maddie was clearly upset. She almost never called him by his full first name. "We were able to request another trial. Perhaps, something was missed in the original investigation."

"You're getting another chance to prove your innocence, son. Not many boys in your position get something like this."

The news only barely registered with the boy. It was only a matter of time before Spectra caught wind of the new trial. She'd surely find a way to foul that up, too.

With a grunt, Danny turned over in his bed to face the wall.

"…ddddddddaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnny…"

The boy raised his head. He shrugged and put it back down.

"…ddddddddddaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnny!"

Again, he raised his head, this time turning around and looking. Darkness there, and nothing more. He let out a slight hiccup. A light blue trail wafted past his lips.

He snapped his head around and leaped out of bed, assuming a fighting stance.

"Show yourself, whatever you are." His voice was low enough not to arouse suspicion, but edgy enough to pose a threat.

Before his eyes, a spirit materialized. Though it possessed red eyes and green skin that seemed to glow (like a lot of ghosts he had encountered since attaining his powers), Danny stood with his mouth hanging open. He had never expected anything like this.

"Jazz?"